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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28785648">The Adventures of Baki and Pickle</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/JayTDawgzone9999/pseuds/JayTDawgzone9999'>JayTDawgzone9999</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Shrek (Movies), Sonic the Hedgehog - All Media Types, Star Wars - All Media Types, Thomas the Tank Engine - All Media Types, グラップラー刃牙 | Baki the Grappler</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alien Ramen, Ballpits, Beaches, Being Lost, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Canon Universe, Canon-Typical Violence, Caveman on Train Violence, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Day At The Beach, Dimension Travel, Don't Examine This Too Closely, Exactly What It Says on the Tin, Fights, Gated Communities, Gen, Heat Stroke, Hotboxing, Mud, Mudslides, Outer Space, Property Damage, Property Destruction, Robbery, Smash Tournament, Tarzan References, Trains, Video game convention, Weird Biology, Weird Plot Shit, Wormholes, don't take this seriously, national parks</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 07:47:05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,533</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28785648</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/JayTDawgzone9999/pseuds/JayTDawgzone9999</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A teen-aged martial artist and a 190,000 year old caveman have some unexpected free time and find themselves in a little over their heads.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Start of the Madness</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Baki Hanma was a busy young adult, with a schedule jam-packed full of different things like training to get strong enough to defeat his father, trying to find strong opponents to spar against to become stronger, avoid all the creepy ass motherfuckers that wanted to kill him that he kept on running into for some inexplicable reason, and trying not to get in too much trouble with the cops. So when he found an unanticipated opening in his schedule, he was presented with the dilemma of his life. </p><p>As popular as Baki was among other fighters, with his hectic schedule never left him with enough time to form lasting bonds of friendship with any of his own peers. Normally he was too busy to worry about all that jazz, but now he was left with a peculiar dilemma, one he had never faced before. Pondering the options available to him, the solution to Baki's new and unorthodox problem suddenly appeared to him, as if divine inspiration rained down on him from the heavens (spoiler alert: it was inspiration alright, but it was most certainly not divine in nature.) </p><p>       "Hey, Pickle!" Baki shouted at the giant caveman sitting in the sewers chowing down on some crocodile. </p><p>Pickle, who had nothing to say because he couldn't say anything, looked at Baki, his eyes wide with curiosity. Being a 190,000 year old caveman who was, as far as anyone could guess, the only living member of his species to exist, was pretty boring, his social life being as abundant and entertaining as one would expect the social life of a creature who couldn't communicate with anyone and had to live in the sewers to avoid being kidnapped by the government and locked up in an underground chamber like a criminal to be. </p><p>       "You wanna go on an adventure?" </p><p>Pickle's big, beady eyes lit up like a Christmas tree, his attention firmly fixed on his only friend. "Ha ru ru!" </p><p>       "I'll take that as a yes." Baki said. "I'd tell you to pack your bags, but you don't own anything so just put on these shorts and let's go on vacation." </p><p>Pickle's face beamed with joy as Baki handed him some extra large shorts, doing a happy little caveman dance after putting them on while following Baki out of the sewers, neither man nor caveman aware of the chaos and destruction that would follow them on their travels.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The Mouse House Disaster</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Disney-world was a place where people of all ages went to experience that sort of fresh, zesty magic that reminded them of their childhood dreams or happier times in their life or something along those lines. Baki Hanma, however, and his closest friend, a 190,000 year old caveman everyone called Pickle, weren't here for anything like that. Rather, they were taking advantage of one thing and one thing only: A 50% off ticket sale, good for one day only. Baki, a talented genius martial artist of the likes 99% of the world could never even dream of holding a candle to, was many things. Rich, however, wasn't one of them. </p><p>         "Uh, sir?" An employee at the main entrance gate of Disney World asks Baki as he and Pickle passed through the gate, not quite sure exactly what he was looking at. </p><p>         "Yeah?" </p><p>         "Uh, never-mind." The employee, who had to do a double-take after seeing Pickle devour something inside a KFC chicken bucket (which was most definitely not chicken,) decided upon seeing the giant behemoth devour-something-that was absolutely not KFC fried chicken out of a KFC chicken bucket, that maybe some questions didn't need to be answered after all. </p><p>Baki shrugged. "Come on, Pickle, the 50% off pass is only good for 24 hours, we gotta get moving." Baki, more than well aware of the fact that psychotic criminals from all corners of the globe had a disturbing habit of trying to hunt him down to try to beat the ever-loving piss out of him. "The lines aren't gonna get any shorter." </p><p>         "Ha ru ru!" Pickle shouted, oblivious to the terrified onlookers gawking at him while Baki dragged him away from someone's service dog.</p><p>         "Alright, Pickle, the line to this ride doesn't look too long-" Baki mused, cutting off his own sentence as a curious thought popped in his head "But honestly, I'm not sure if you'd even fit on it. Oh, well, guess there's no way to find out besides checking it out-" </p><p> A ear-splitting explosion almost knocked Baki off his feet as Pickle, who picked up a half-eaten hot dog lying on the ground, accidentally pressed a super secret hidden button that only employees were supposed to know about, opening a trapdoor leading to some mysterious underground tunnel. It was never really supposed to be a thing, but some CIA guys back in the late 80's came up with the idea to save some money on some government operation or other to avoid having to go through the trouble of paying for plane tickets and without warning, Doyle climbed out of the hole. Despite the blind criminal no longer having any eyes, he looked around, mostly a reflex thing, somehow able to sense that Baki was nearby. </p><p>          "Sir, I'm afraid you're a little too tall to fit on this ride." A beleaguered employee tried to explain to Pickle, who shouted and stomped his feet, since not being able to communicate with anyone else didn't exactly leave him with a lot of options and wandered off to look for the half-eaten hot dog again. </p><p>           "Hello, Baki." </p><p> Baki, despite still not being entirely sure what Pickle was doing (though to be honest, nobody was ever really sure what Pickle was doing,) turned around, annoyed that Doyle of all people decided to show up. </p><p>           "What, you wanna get your ass kicked again? Who asked you to come here and ruin my vacation?" Baki figured getting a reasonable answer out of Doyle was unlikely, but then, his best friend being a 190,000 year old caveman who was currently sniffing a tree was also unlikely but that didn't stop it from happening anyways. </p><p>           "I wasn't looking for you-" </p><p>           "Yeah, that's because you're blind as a bat!" Sikorsky, who ripped off the Goofy mascot costume he was wearing, said, laughing like an idiot. "Good luck dodging this!" </p><p> A woman in the distance was screaming while Pickle left the half-eaten hot dog he found on her head while he went to go chase a squirrel he found in the tree, Baki deciding to slowly sip some coke while he watched Doyle kick Sikorsky in the nuts.  "Gwaaahhhhhhh!!!!! Fuck you, you *redacted* cock-sucking little *censored*!" Sikorsky, crumpled to the ground while he was clutching his smashed testicles, screamed, his voice almost as high-pitched as the animatronic Mickey Mouse giving some kids some ice cream. </p><p>            "Haha." Baki laughed in a deadpan voice, sipping his cola while he watched Doyle dump his lemonade on Sikorsky, blissfully aware of Pickle diving under a parade float to find the squirrel, causing a bunch of people to scatter like cockroaches, some of them slamming right into Biscuit Oliva's massive oiled chest, because what was the point of being the most free man in the world if you couldn't walk around shirtless at Disney World without paying? </p><p>            "Hey, Baki, good to see you!" Oliva waved, picking up a handful of people and setting them down on a nearby bench. "You got some time for a friendly little sparring match?" </p><p>             "Ahhhh, my hair!" the woman who Pickle put the half-eaten hot dog on, screamed when Pickle picked up the hot dog off her head, scarfing it down in one gulp. </p><p> Aw, what the hell. Might as well get the fuck out of here before the cops showed up, Baki thought as he heard something explode behind him. But first, he had to find Pickle. </p><p>            "I wonder if I can give this to anyone else..." Baki thought, remembering that he had one of those 50% off day passes and it was still in his pocket until he reached in there to pull it out. </p><p>            "Holy moly, there's some kind of giant hairless ape chasing after a squirrel!" a terrified news reporter yelled, Pickle roaring and howling in the background amidst the people running around in a panic. </p><p> Yeah, I'll worry about that later." Baki thought, putting it back in his pocket as Pickle tackled a news truck nearby, roaring in victory as he crushed it to smithereens. Maybe Disney World wasn't the best choice for a vacation. Time for plan B...</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Rollercoasters and Overpriced Hot Dogs Aren't the Only Things You'll Find at an Amusement Park</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Disney World was simply too notable of a place, especially for someone as famous as Baki. Yeah, that made sense, Baki thought, waiting in line to get into a generic amusement park with Pickle. The ancient caveman from the Jurassic Era was oddly well-behaved today, holding onto the fake camera Baki handed to him, telling him to take pictures to give him something useful to do while they waited in line. </p><p>Pickle was a pretty weird dude, Baki couldn't deny it. Being pretty weird himself in his own way, Baki couldn't hold it against his massive 8 and a half foot tall friend. Still, there were a lot of things normal people understood that Baki, despite his best efforts, would never be able to relate to. Like not being stalked by psychotic sadomasochistic criminals who wanted to kill him. </p><p>        "Well, well, if it isn't the one and only Baki Hanma." </p><p>        "Shouldn't you be curled up in a corner somewhere sucking your thumb and crying for candy you shitty old geezer?" </p><p>Of the many unusual characters Baki met, Dorian had to be one of the most annoying. If there was a worldwide championship for being a douchebag instead of being the best martial artist in the world, Dorian would beat everyone in a landslide and then some. Grinding his teeth while Pickle pretended to take a picture of a woman nearby, Baki curled his right fist, feeling his blood pressure rise. </p><p>         "Besides, what kind of sick fuck cuts in front of a little kid to get on a spinning teacup ride?" Baki's glare was sharp enough to slice through diamonds but Dorian, the smug, demented chucklefuck, laughed, his annoying vocalization grating in Baki's ears like a cheese grater in an Italian restaurant while some little kid was crying nearby after being pushed out of the way before he could get on the ride by Dorian. </p><p>Walking over to the kid, Baki pulled out a lollipop from his pocket (he used them to distract Pickle when Pickle got in one of his "chase everything with four legs down because I'm bored" moods,) handing it to the kid. "Here you go." Baki patted the kid's head while the kid wiped the tears from his eyes, reaching out a tiny hand to grab the lollipop. </p><p>         "Now, I think it's about time the two of us have a little chat." Baki turned back to give Dorian a good old fashioned ass-kicking, but just as soon as he did, he was greeted by nothing other than the sight of Sikorsky, who had just burst out of a Donald Duck mascot suit, caving his face in Mortal Kombat style. </p><p>          "You fucking diabetes-ridden candy-coated-turd-brained shit-heel, that's the last time you ruin my vacation! You thought you could steal my wallet, but anyone could see your big fat ugly ass sneaking around from a mile away!" </p><p>Baki, never quite sure how to react to this kind of shit that happened around him way too often (though he hid it well,) did what he did best: Order a coca-cola from the nearest concessions stand, sit back, watch Sikorsky turn Dorian's head into strawberry-colored jam staining the concrete, Baki calmly picking up one of Dorian's eyeballs when he was done with his soda just in case he needed a little something extra to distract Pickle with in case he saw another squirrel. </p><p>           "Hey, Pickle." Baki gave Pickle, who was busy sniffing a popcorn machine he had picked up, a wave. "We're gonna leave a little early, something came up."</p><p>           "Baki, help me dammit!" Sikorsky, who had gotten shot in the ass with a dart containing a medication to paralyze him, screamed as a bunch of cops who had just shown up dragged him away to spend a very long time in prison. "You traitorous bastard! I'll show you one day!" </p><p>Baki, ignoring Sikorsky's plight, gave Pickle the eyeball, fishing in his pocket to find his phone to text Kozue (as he had promised her he would do once a day,) while Sikorsky hollered bloody murder as the cops shoved him into a cop car, cursing and swearing so much he started to foam at the mouth. So much for an amusement park. Time for plan C...</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. What Happens in Las Vegas Doesn't May or May Not Stay in Las Vegas</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Baki Hanma, a teenager who was born and raised in Japan, wasn't really sure how he ended up in Las Vegas, but there he was, he and his best friend looking around. The city was loud, colorful, and the pollution was kind of disgusting, but Baki noticed a distinct absence of something that until then, he could have sworn had been just right next to him. </p><p>Steeling his fighting instincts to prepare for trouble, Baki looked around, seeing nothing unusual at first glance. It smelled kind of gross, but Baki just chalked that up to the pollution. Damn, Americans are kinda gross...Baki thought. As busy and hectic as the city was, Baki still found himself surprised that it wasn't louder. But why, Baki wondered. </p><p>He turned his head when he heard a crash, his eyes widening just enough that if someone looked really, really closely they might have noticed something. Well, fuck. </p><p>       "Pickle, put that truck down!" </p><p>        "Grahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!" </p><p>         "Pickle!" </p><p>Baki dashed over, landing behind Pickle, grabbing him around the neck. "Pickle, I told you to put down that truck!" </p><p>        "Raaaaaaaaahhhhhhh!!!!!!!" </p><p>Sweating a little, Baki gave Pickle a disappointed look after Pickle put the truck down, looking at Baki after Baki leap back to the ground. "And let that poor truck driver go." Baki instructed Pickle, Pickle sheepishly opening the door and the terrified driver ran screaming into the loud, bright, multicolored distance. </p><p>        "Pickle, we had a talk about this before. You know what I told you about trucks..." </p><p>         "Ha ru ru" Pickle said in a sad voice, giving Baki sad puppy dog eyes. </p><p>Baki sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I forgive you, but don't do that again, okay?" </p><p>Baki figured that as long as they were in Las Vegas and he couldn't figure how to get the hell out of the city just yet, they ought to look for some food. With the song Barbie Girl playing somewhere in the background for some inexplicable reason Baki didn't even want to begin to ponder, Baki and Pickle set off in search for food. Though Pickle still had significant trouble adjusting to many aspects of life in the modern world, he had eventually developed a taste for certain kinds of cooked meats (particularly with Worcestershire sauce,) making it somewhat easier for them to find food. Somewhat. </p><p>Baki blinked, a long, slow blink borne of frustration, when he saw the line for a food truck, the cheapest source of food around. There were hot dogs, burgers, and barbeque for under $10 an entree, which wasn't bad. Baki wasn't quite sure how yen translated into U.S dollars but surely it couldn't be too hard to figure it out, right? </p><p>         "Hey, can I have one burger medium well and a plate of the barbeque special? With Worcestershire sauce if you have any." Baki asked the cook inside the truck. </p><p>         "Haha! Not so fast, you dopey busted ass looking bastard!" Sikorsky, who popped out of a manhole nearby, screamed, grabbing on Baki's ankle. </p><p>         "Dude, what the fuck?" </p><p>Sikorsky, once he realized whose ankle he was grabbing, did a double-take, a look of disappointment coloring his face in short order. </p><p>          "Ah, dammit, it's just you. Not that I won't get my revenge against you eventually, but first I'm going to hunt down that demented candy-sucking diabetes-ridden motherfucker who stole my fucking wallet! I don't know how that fucker survived, but the moment I lay eyes on him again, I'm going to change that!" Sikorsky, who let go of Baki's ankle after hauling himself out of the sewer, popped a blood vessel in his head when he saw Dorian pop out from inside the food truck, a crazy look in his eyes. </p><p>          "Come on, couldn't you at least have given us our food first?" Baki said, handing a lollipop to Pickle so Pickle would stay calm, neglecting to take into account Dorian's newfound love for candy. </p><p>           "Graahhhhhhh!!!!" Pickle roared as Dorian made a beeline for him, picking up the bearded man and throwing him into a nearby casino. </p><p>           "Come back here, I'm not done with you yet!" Sikorsky screamed, chasing after Dorian by way of hopping inside the hole Pickle made in the wall when he threw Dorian off him after Dorian made a grab for his lollipop. </p><p>With everyone else having fled the scene, Baki hopped inside the food truck-hey, not a bad set up in here, he realized, finished cooking one of the burgers and some barbecue ribs that were being cooked, grabbed the food after it was done, grabbed some extra packets of Worcestershire sauce, and figured now was as good a time as any to try to find a way out of the city. </p><p>          "No, Pickle, we're not going down there, let's get moving." Baki told Pickle when Pickle pulled Baki's arm, gesturing towards the open manhole. </p><p>Pickle grunted in a sad voice, trailing behind Baki, who was holding the food. </p><p>           "If you're good, I'll let you keep all of these." Baki told Pickle, holding up the packets of Worcestershire sauce  as they found a random free trolley with a fortunately inattentive driver. </p><p>           "Doriaaaaaaaaaaaaaannnnnnnnnnnn.......you motherfucker!" a faint voice could be heard screaming in the distance as the trolley took Baki and Pickle away from the city, Baki and Pickle sharing some random ass food truck barbecue and a burger together with a spork and an extra paper plate Baki managed to nab from the truck. </p><p>Might as well be thankful for the little things, right? Baki glanced at the sun, still high in the sky, glad that he could no longer heard Sikorsky's voice faintly in the distance, Baki and Pickle both remaining blissfully unaware of the thing that came out of the open manhole, catching a whiff of their scent and deciding to follow them.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Vitamin D Isn't The Only Thing You'll Get At The Beach</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Baki Hanma knew enough to expect the unexpected more often than most, but that still left him with no clear answers as to why the ever-loving fuck Thomas the Tank Engine was doing at the beach. </p><p>       "Pickle, let it-" Come to think of it, does an anthropomorphic train even have a gender-"-let him go!" Baki yelled at Pickle, who was currently wrestling Thomas the Tank Engine. </p><p>Crowds of people were fleeing the scene as a giant prehistoric caveman duked it out with a colorful train from a popular children's television series from a country he had never even lived in. Never mind that Baki, having been born and raised in the land of the rising sun, had literally never even seen a single episode of Thomas the Tank Engine as a child. What did logic have to do with it anyways? </p><p>Nothing, apparently, Baki decided as Pickle picked up the anthropomorphic human-looking steam locomotive, roaring in a thunderous voice as he lifted it-or him, rather-Baki still wasn't sure whether Thomas the Tank Engine could legally be classified as having a gender-over his head like Tarzan after he had killed Sabor. Come the fuck on, Baki complained to himself as Pickle roared, why the fuck do I have to be the only person who ever does anything about this kind of shit? It's like I'm the only person who even gives a damn, he thought, catching a glimpse of Biscuit Oliva out of the corner of his eye eating some ice cream that Maria, his morbidly obese wife, was feeding him. </p><p>Are you serious? "Hey, Oliva-" </p><p>         "Hey, Baki, imagine running into each other on a beach. Crazy, right?" The plastic beach umbrella over his lawn chair was suddenly and violently uprooted from the ground as Thomas the Tank Engine, apparently refusing to go down without a fight, picked up the umbrella, attempting to use it as a weapon against Pickle. </p><p>Fortunately for Baki, maybe this would inspire Oliva to get up off his ass and actually do something to put an end to the chaos that had ruined everybody else's day at the beach. Unfortunately, Pickle wasn't afraid of anything except wasps and to Pickle, Thomas the Tank Engine was just some annoying inedible animal that was attacking him, beach umbrella or no beach umbrella. </p><p>          "How can you just sit there when a fucking train walking on two legs is trying to show off some pro-wrestling moves?" No point in mincing words, Baki thought, the bizarre reality of his life had already minced enough shit for him, like his brain cells, some of which promptly died when he first looked up and noticed the giant train on two legs running full speed towards Pickle. </p><p>          "Because that's all a retarded fat ass candy munching walking heart attack would know how to do!" Sikorsky, who had popped out of an abandoned hot dog cart, yelled, stopping himself after doing some weird karate pose the moment he laid eyes on Biscuit Oliva and realized, much to his chagrin, that he had gotten the wrong guy. Dammit, what the hell happened to that drooling imbecile with a lice-infested beard who babbled on and on about candy? Sikorsky (metaphorically) scratched his head, unable to realize how (yet again,) he had accidentally tracked down the wrong fucking guy. </p><p>          "Go on, take a moment. Hell, take all the time you need. It's not like anyone's busy trying to do anything important or stop some freak of nature from running amok here." Baki's voice, laced with heavy sarcasm because he had just ran out of fucks to give and couldn't see the point in hiding it anymore, rang, but Biscuit Oliva, who never seemed to know when it was time to stop flashing his freakishly white teeth in that smug, shit-eating grin of his, showed absolutely no sign that there was even a faint possibility of him giving a fuck in this universe or any other, fanning his wife with a paper fan, as she got sweaty easily on hot days. </p><p>Sikorsky, who was beginning to wonder about several key facts and features of the universe that he formerly thought were obvious, looked around, his eyes darting this way and that and his face twisting into a grimace as he noticed Dorian was nowhere to be found. </p><p>            "Dammit all! That dim-witted diabetes-ridden intellectually crippled mush-brained imbecile evaded me for the last time! I, Sikorsky, will find him and deliver an entire world of pain straight to his doorstep-" </p><p>The last word turned into more of an echo as in some kind of insane blood-rage (gasoline rage? Baki had so many questions,) as Thomas the Tank Engine, who seemed incapable of speaking a single word yet fully capable of dishing out a whole lot of hurt, snatched Sikorsky off the ground by one leg, flinging him off in the distance. </p><p>           "Damn you alllllllllllllllllllll!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" </p><p>Baki turned back to Oliva, noticing that the world's freest man had gone back to doting on his wife without a care in the world, still oblivious or uncaring or both (probably both, Baki reasoned,) about the fight between a 190,000 year old caveman and a steam locomotive on two legs that was still going on just as strong as ever. </p><p>           "As always, it seems like I have to do everything around here..." Baki complained, preparing to do whatever it took to separate Pickle from Thomas the Tank Engine. </p><p>The sound of an explosion somewhere in the distance that he couldn't see (but definitely felt, if the vibrations in the ground meant anything,) caused his ears to hurt momentarily, and when he was able to let go of his ears after crumpling to the ground and holding them in agony, Baki saw an large green ogre dressed in filthy rags thrusting his hips playing a saxophone with his nose while sitting atop a flying donkey. </p><p>            "Except for dealing with whatever the fuck that is." </p><p>            "Ohh Lawd, it's all ogre now!" the flying donkey yelled, flying straight into Pickle and Thomas the Tank Engine. </p><p>Yeah, fuck this-"Oliva, stop fawning over your wife and get your ass over here!" Baki felt a level of despair he never knew when Oliva continued to ignore him, also noticing that the ogre was now playing late 90's era crunk music on the saxophone, despite the fact that it was only 1991. Strange, Baki thought. I'm sure I was born in 1994. Wait a minute-</p><p>Baki, no longer able to distinguish which of the multitudes of fucked up things all happening at the same time was most important to try to figure out at the moment, made the mistake of looking up at the sky, seeing a moon in the sky about the size of the planet Jupiter with the face of the giant ogre who was playing a saxophone through his nose plastered over it. </p><p>         "Oh, here we goooooo!!!!!!! All hands on deck-I mean hooves, I meant hooves! No! Aaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!!!!" the donkey screamed, the ear-splitting noise of glass shattering (despite there being no glass visible anywhere nearby,) ringing in Baki's ears, followed by some invisible disembodied voice rapping "Ass and titties, ass and titties, Ass and titties and big booty bitches, Ass and titties, ass and titties, Ass and titties and big booty bitches!!!!!!!!!" </p><p>Meanwhile, with the ogre still playing crunk music on a saxophone through his nose, the donkey screaming, and the moon just hanging there in the sky, Oliva was still doting on his huge, massive wife. </p><p>Yeah, this is the last time I go to the beach, Baki told himself, fishing his phone from his pocket with a dead look in his eyes, typing out a short message to Kozue in case he died here, Pickle landing the finishing blow on Thomas the Tank Engine just as Baki hit "send," the moon in the sky suddenly growing even bigger, the sky darkening all the while.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>If you're wondering what Thomas the Tank Engine looks like here and why he has two legs, this video explains it all: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b8HO6hba9ZE</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. You Never Know What You'll Find If You're Not Looking For It</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Baki and Pickle end up at a Nickelback concert for no other reason than the cruel, capricious nature of the universe.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There were, assuming his best guess was correct, over a hundred different countries in the world. Baki Hanma was no longer sure which one of them he was in, but he figured at least it was pretty safe to assume he was still on planet Earth. At the very least, the ogre and the anthropomorphic train were nowhere to be found. That was probably for the best, Baki reasoned, watching Pickle picking at his fingernails. </p><p>Unfortunately, there was a band playing nearby to a screaming crowd and the music was fucking horrible. </p><p>Ugh, who listens to this shit-Baki's thoughts, which he accidentally verbalized, were interrupted by a certain candy-chomping emotionally unstable master of ancient Chinese martial arts bursting out of a nearby manhole, dragging himself out by sheer force of will as much of anything that would have actually made sense, like his arms or legs. Or something like that. What the fuck is he doing here, Baki wondered, purposely ignoring the fact that he himself still had no fucking idea what the hell he was doing at a concert for a band called Nickleback and how the hell he ended up there. </p><p>       "Ook ook!" Pickle shouted, picking up a traffic cone and putting it on his head like a hat despite not knowing what hats were. </p><p>       "Yeah, nice hat, it suits you." Baki was still never totally sure whether or not Pickle had any fucking clue what anyone else was saying, but Baki figured that if a 190,000 living relic from the Jurassic Era needed anything, it was regular boosts to his self-esteem. Being a fish out of temporal water was a difficult situation to go through and Baki assumed the poor guy could use all the emotional support he could get. </p><p>       "Grahhhhh!" Pickle shouted. </p><p>Baki, still unable to figure out how the hell he ended up at a Nickleback concert, allowed himself to blink for only a split second when he felt a cold yet strangely sweaty hand grab on his ankle. </p><p>       "I got you now you diabetes-ridden fuckhead! Enjoy your tooth-rooting snacks in hell you ugly monkey looking cunt!"</p><p>Noticing that Pickle was getting kind of bored, Baki calmly and carefully extricated himself from the situation, pointing out Dorian to a disgruntled Sikorsky and waiting until the Russian criminal had picked up Dorian, throwing him into a nearby dumpster, then allowing Pickle to fully unleash his inner caveman on Sikorsky. </p><p>       "Okay, Pickle, that's enough, the two of us need to have a little talk." Baki gently scolded Pickle when, after the giant caveman had thrown Sikorsky into a cluster of trees a good 30 or so feet away, Pickle did his characteristic victory dance, shouting and roaring in delight. </p><p>Dragging Pickle away from the concert, Baki realized he needed to do two things: charge his phone and possibly get his head examined to make sure he hadn't retained any permanent psychological damage from the events of the last week or so, in no particular order, but in order to make a plan to somehow make it back to Japan (or at least some civilized land where Nickelback wasn't playing,) Baki needed enough quiet to think. </p><p>      "Rot in hell you shrimp-dick pasty ass goofy ass looking baby face jumped up little shit!" Baki heard a distant voice yell in the wind. Man, who pissed in Sikorsky's cheerios? Baki didn't really care, but the question remained nonetheless. That dude had serious anger management problems. </p><p>Finding a relatively abandoned little gazebo in an abandoned house a few streets away, Baki surveyed his surroundings, calculating a solution for his ever-increasing list of problems in his head on the fly. </p><p>       "Pickle, don't go in there, you're too big to fit-" Baki face-palmed when Pickle, eager to chase after a squirrel he found in there, dove into the gazebo, getting his head stuck between two of the wooden planks holding the structure up, raising his fists to the heavens and shouting in rage. </p><p>With the same squirrel Pickle wanted to chase down landing on Baki's shoulder, Baki picked up the furry rodent, placing it on a nearby mailbox, resigning himself to a very energetic job when Pickle ran off, the gazebo still around his head as he ran away. </p><p>       "Pickle, people go in those, don't-" Baki cringed when Pickle, roaring as he ripped the gazebo off his head, stepped on a car. Thankfully there was nobody inside the car, but unfortunately for Baki, Doyle was hiding under the car wearing a policewoman outfit and oddly well-applied makeup. </p><p>        "Ah, damn, it's just you." Doyle, who hadn't been able to see in who knows how long, looked around more out of instinct than for any useful reason. "I already paid my child support for this month so why don't you just move along?" </p><p>Maybe I better go start looking for a therapist before I charge my phone, Baki thought, his attention distracted by Pickle picking up the car he just stepped on and throwing it on the ground nearby, landing on a cigarette butt someone tossed on the ground and had forgotten to check to see if it was still burning or not. </p><p>The massive fire that broke out was nowhere near as bizarre as how the hell Doyle survived lying under the car when Pickle stepped on it, but it was perhaps almost as unsettling, as it smelled like gasoline, motor oil, and cheeto dust.  Unaware of just how close they were to a tacky gated community, Baki jumped so suddenly he almost fell over when he heard an ominous and all too familiar voice nearby. </p><p>         "Well, well, if it isn't my slightly talented son." </p><p>         "Dad? What the-" Baki blinked the most uncomfortable blink in his life when he saw his father reclining in a lawn chair while a woman rubbed his feet. </p><p>          "Grahhhhhhhhhh!" Pickle screamed, distressed that he could no longer find the rodent he had been madly pursuing. </p><p>This-I can't-Dad doesn't go to America...does he? Baki knew as much about his father as most people knew about the ocean or the sun. Objectively they existed and people were vaguely aware of what they were and what they did, but Yujiro Hanma was as much of an enigma to his own son as he was to everyone else, mainly because he was motherfucking Yujiro Hanma and he was just like that. A ridiculous living meme of a man who could squash the entire world under his thumb if he so felt like, except he didn't because for some reason he was more content to sit in a lawn-chair while some woman rubbed his feet and give his son backhanded compliments. It was only Tuesday, though, there was no telling how the rest of the week would turn out. </p><p>          "Wait, did you know I was in America? Or did you come here to get away from me?" </p><p>Baki knew Yujiro Hanma was displeased with many people and things that existed, and Baki himself wasn't excluded from that list, as he wasn't quite as strong enough yet as Yujiro would have liked him to be, but Baki still had to wonder what the ever-loving fuck his father was doing in some random town in America. </p><p>          "Did you fall and hit your head? We're in Japan, where else would we be? That's what you get for wasting too much time goofing off and not paying attention to your training." Yujiro scolded him, not that his tone of voice gave any indication that he gave even a fraction of a shit. </p><p>          "Ha ru ru!" Pickle shouted when he spotted Doyle, picking him up and shaking him around like a rag-doll, to which even Yujiro just glanced at quickly, shook his head, and went back to insulting his son. </p><p>           "Also, you know that soup you made? It tasted like shit, you're the worst cook in the history of chefs." Yujiro went on, unaware that his son just passed out in front of him. </p><p>Humming to himself while relaxing in the lawn chair, he slipped the woman massaging his feet 1500 yen and waved her off, deciding to take a few moments to enjoy the pleasant afternoon sun while Pickle continued to shake Doyle like a set of maracas, roaring and shouting in delight for reasons that nobody would ever be able to understand even if they gave enough of a fuck to try to find out. </p><p>           "This place isn't bad, but I think I'll spend the summer at a beach house instead." Yujiro told nobody besides himself while he put his arms behind his head, enjoying the pleasant warm feeling of the afternoon sun and a security guard dragged Baki off to take him to a hospital. "I rather enjoy the way sand feels between my toes."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Every Day's An Adventure When You Don't Know What The Fuck's Going On</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Baki and Pickle discover the perils of touching unidentified objects lying in the street.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Well, guess we must be in Japan after all." Baki remarked upon seeing a ramen stand nearby. </p><p>Pickle wasn't a fan of ramen, but he liked hanging out with Baki. "Ha ru ru!" Pickle shouted. </p><p>Baki had no idea what Pickle was saying (nobody did, but that wasn't the point,) but over time, the two of them had begun to cobble together a crude understanding of each other's emotions, sort of like how over time rocks lying on the beach get worn down into grains of sand. "It's been a while since we've eaten, so I'll go order some ramen and ask for extra meat." Baki told Pickle, Pickle glancing at a hole in the ground after Baki headed over to the ramen stand. </p><p>      "Alright, one extra large ramen with all the fixings and extra pork!" </p><p>      "Thanks." After Baki took the food and paid, he walked back to Pickle, confused when he saw Pickle sticking his hand in some kind of blob on the ground. </p><p>      "Pickle, what did I tell you about touching random things on the ground-" just as the last word left Baki's mouth, the sky morphed into some swirling, multicolored monstrosity, replete with twisting, shifting blobs and lines of-</p><p>Of-</p><p>Baki glanced around, as much as one could do so while being sucked through a giant wormhole at lighting speed. What the absolute fuck-</p><p>After being unceremoniously dumped onto the surface of some rocky planet with almost no atmosphere to speak of besides weird squiggly shapes floating around, Baki and Pickle looked around, no more or less confused than before. Nearby was an ordinary-looking ramen stand, not too much different from the one they saw back in some place that looked a whole lot more like Japan.</p><p>      "Oh, what the hell." Baki walked over. He still had some money in his pocket and he lost his last bowl of ramen after being sucked through the wormhole. "Maybe this ramen will be better anyways-" The thought died a ceremonious death the moment Baki lifted the curtain, finding an ogre wearing ratty old clothes eating a huge pot of ramen while a donkey was rummaging through the cash register drawer. </p><p>       "Aw, damn, I told you we shouldn't have eaten without paying, the donkey complained. </p><p>        "Aw, quit your whining, Donkey, where else are we supposed to find food on this dump? Besides, I'm not the one who's stealing money from the cash register." </p><p> Of course the donkey's name is Donkey. Baki scratched his head, putting on a calm, relaxed front trying to avoid showing just how confused he was. Donkey the donkey, stealing money out of a cash register at a ramen stand on a planet with weird squiggly shapes floating around-" </p><p>        "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" </p><p>         "Gwarh!!!!!!!!" </p><p> Oh, what the fuck is happening now? Baki buried his face in his hands. Come on, Baki, just look up. It's nothing you can't handle. You're one of the best martial artists in the world. Your father would eat guys like these for breakfast-well, more like an after-dinner minut but whatever. Or maybe one of those Listerine strips you put on your tongue-or one of those minty fresh-</p><p>           "Dammit all, Pickle, wait for me, don't go eating random people, you don't know where they've been!" Baki delivered a not-so-timely windmill punch, smashing Skiorsky's nuts like a bowl of mashed potatoes just as the Russian criminal was busy fighting with Doyle over whose fault it was that they got sucked into the wormhole while Pickle was picking them both up, preparing to eat them both. </p><p>           "Damn, this soup is good. Who would have thought something without some nice slimy slugs would taste this delicious?" </p><p>            "Shrek, no, come back, we really shouldn't go over there-Shrek!" Donkey yelled as Shrek walked off, throwing the empty pot of ramen in Pickle's direction because he didn't watch where he threw things. </p><p> Alright, my mistake-well, not really-Baki had never been fond of Sikorsky and frankly, a mashed nut sandwich was the least that scumbag deserved. But still, it's not a good idea to eat things when you don't know where they've been, Baki reasoned, convincing himself to save Doyle and Sikorsky from the-quite literal-jaws of death-</p><p> The things I do to remind myself that I'm not my father-Baki eventually separated Pickle from the two criminals, but not without being thrown on the ground twice. Yeah, I think something's broken. And not just Doyle's sanity or Sikorsky's mind...Baki looked down at the shard of bone sticking out of his left arm. Ah. That was no good. How could he text Kozue with only one hand? Damn. </p><p>             "Augh, my bones!" Shrek, who Baki had accidentally landed on, hollered. </p><p>              "Don't worry, Shrek, I'm coming to save you!" Donkey, the aptly named donkey, galloped over at breakneck speed, but it still wasn't fast enough to allow him to make it before Thomas the Tank Engine football tackled him, hoisting up in the air like Tarzan after killing Sabor before Pickle slapped Donkey out of the two-legged train engine's hands-claws? Appendages? Honestly, who could even tell-Baki shook his head, forgetting how hard it was to push yourself off the ground-or an ogre you were sitting on, until Dorian popped out of the cash register in the ramen stand, holding a ladle in his hand while he climbed out of the machine, picked it up, and threw it on Baki and Shrek. </p><p>              "I want candy!" </p><p>               "Ahh, my spleen!" Shrek screamed as the cash register hit him. </p><p> Do ogres have spleens? Baki wasn't about to find out, crawling towards Pickle to ask Pickle to look for any wormholes so they could escape this twisted fun-house nightmare of a planet. "Hey, Pickle, you wanna have a little chat?" No point in freaking out, especially given how Pickle got when people started yelling and screaming. Lord knows that was the last thing anyone needed. "Listen, we gotta look for one of those holes-" Woah, that feels weird-Baki noticed he was starting to get kind of dizzy, most likely from increasing blood loss as Pickle picked him up. "Doesn't matter where you find it, the first one will-" </p><p> Pickle raised his arm, throwing Baki into a hole with dozens and dozens of colors that didn't exist in the rainbow and jumping in after him. </p><p> Oh, what the fuck-Baki turned his head, groggy and bleary-eyed from an increasingly critical amount of blood loss as he saw an ogre, a donkey, and a train engine floating alongside them. Hey, Pickle, watch out-In a way, Baki kind of regretted using the last of his strength to tell Pickle to throw him down the same kind of hole that got them into this kind of mess, but there was nothing else to be done, he reasoned as he drifted out of consciousness to the sounds of roars, screams, shouts, and neigh-ing all around him. </p><p>              "Ugh, why did God have to give me not one but two retarded sons? The both of them combined have the same amount of brain cells as a plate of day-old sushi." Yujiro Hanma complained, pulling his son and the giant caveman out of a strange pulsating wormhole he found in the toilet of the hotel room he was staying in, kicking everything else that showed up in the wormhole back down the toilet, shutting the lid and flushing twice just to be sure. "I always told that boy nothing good comes out of holes that aren't some woman's twat or smart-ass mouth." Yujiro Hanma said nothing as the woman whose back he had just blown out screamed when he threw an unconscious Baki and Pickle out of the bathroom. "Damn it all, it's back." Yujiro complained to himself, noticing the single ingrown hair that popped up in the midst of his otherwise immaculately trimmed pubes. "Now where the hell did I put my razor?" </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. In The Jungle, The Mighty Jungle</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>When every tree looks the same, any turn can be a wrong turn.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Baki winds up in a national park.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ah, sure smells nice out here...Baki couldn't figure out what the hell it was he was smelling, but who cared? At least he wasn't inside a wormhole (or a toilet) anymore. Birds were chirping, bees were buzzing, and Knuckles the Echidna was chasing after a talking donkey with a chainsaw. </p><p>       "Damn it all, where's Pickle when you need him?" Baki looked around, unable to locate his best friend. "Damn it all, where's a drink when you need one?" Baki wasn't one for drinking but suddenly he felt like he needed a beer or 10 thousand. "Pickle!" </p><p>       "Cheese? Mayo? Ketchup?" </p><p>        "Who the fuck are you?!" Baki yelled, punching Dorian straight into the air, causing him to crash directly into a 747 Jumbo Jet, which was being piloted by none other than Che Guevara. </p><p>        "Who dares to try and fling me out of the skies? That dastardly fool will pay for this!" </p><p>Che Guevara was an annoying motherfucker, not that Baki gave a shit because Che Guevara was at least 5 miles up in the air and for now, at least, he was somebody else's problem. </p><p>        "Dammit all Dorian, you fool, I'm going to get you for this!" Sikorsky, who popped out of a hole in the ground like a mole in a whack-a-mole game, hollered before gnawing on Baki's ankle. </p><p>For fuck's sake-"For the last time, I'm not Dorian, go take up your beef with him with him for a change." Baki yelled, serving up a fresh on the house mashed nut sandwich to Sikorsky. </p><p>       "Well, the population growth of Russia is probably gonna slow down a little..." Baki mused, walking off after leaving Sikorsky there holding his nuts and howling in pain. "Pickle, I told you that we have to use the buddy system, remember?" </p><p>        "Oh, did you? Well, I don't know about the original, but I got this if it will help." Oliva said, handing Baki a soggy Pickle he got from a McDonald's happy meal. </p><p>         "No, you can keep it, thanks." Baki insisted, trying to figure out if the ringing in his ears was from the chainsaw Knuckles the Echidna was wielding on his bloody murder spree or it was just due to stress. "Hey, Oliva, do you hear a ringing sound?" </p><p>          "Hm? No, can't say I do." Oliva sounded more carefree than anybody who was stuck in a cursed national park had any right to be, especially as Knuckles was busy making short work of his latest victim, a squirrel refereed to as Luigi by those who knew him. "Maybe you need a vacation. The stress of being a professional fighter can get to you sometime." Oliva continued, Baki shivering as he felt another part of his soul die upon hearing that last sentence leave Oliva's mouth. </p><p>          "Ugh, well, whatever, I need to find Pickle. I woke up here and he was nowhere to be found." Baki rubbed his temples, trying to jog his memory, Oliva not bothering to wait for him to discover an answer to his question. </p><p>           "You know, I always thought a national park would be a little well, more lively." Oliva pulled out some string cheese from his pocket, taking a bite. "Tell you the truth, I really haven't seen many people around here, I wonder why." </p><p>Yeah, it's a real mystery, Baki thought as he heard Knuckle's chainsaw rev up yet again, followed by bloodcurdling screams, followed by a loud, ominous thump. </p><p>Somehow, Baki and Oliva ended up walking together, not that Baki really gave a shit anymore. It's a national park, what the fuck could possibly go wrong, he thought when he decided to take Pickle there. If nothing else, he figured it couldn't possibly be any worse of a place to take a vacation than Disney World or a beach or anywhere else they had been the past week. Oh, what a mistake that was-Baki accepted a soda Oliva offered him-in a styrofoam cup with a straw, to be specific. He had no idea where the hell Oliva got the soda, but really, what did Baki have any idea of these days? Perhaps that was why, despite the relative stupidty of what was unfolding before him, Baki could hardly even bring himself to flinch when he saw Sonic the Hedgehog challenging Knuckles to a fight with nun-chucks. </p><p>I wish I could find Pickle, I really need to find a way to make him remember not to run off out of the blue again-Baki soon came to eat his words, hearing an ear-piercing scream as Pickle picked up a sickeningly familiar looking green ogre, shaking him upside down to see what would fall out of his pockets. </p><p>Not again-</p><p>            "Hey, Baki, what's the matter? You've hardly touched your 47 ounce Big Gulp soda." Oliva mentioned, Baki having already developed dark circles under his eyes from all the stress of what was supposed to be a nice week to take a vacation. Oh, what the hell, I'm probably gonna give myself diabetes with this shit, Baki told himself, wordlessly dumping his soda on a bush, cringing when he heard a scream that belonged to an unfortunately familiar talking Donkey. </p><p>            "Aaagh, I told you, I don't know who killed Tails!" Donkey cowered, hiding his face with his hooves as best as he could. "Please don't cut me up into tiny pieces with a chainsaw!" </p><p>Baki silently pinched his arm, digging in his nails hard enough to draw blood before he realized this wasn't a nightmare. "Who the fuck is Tails?" </p><p>Why am I even asking this, Baki mused while Che Guevara crashed his plane nearby and pissed on Sikorsky, who was still holding his nuts and howling in pain. </p><p>            "Don't kill me, please, my meat isn't nutritious, it's full of trans fats and cholesterol!" </p><p>            "Woah, this place is going crazy, what the fuck's happening here?" Tails asked nobody in particular. </p><p>Huh, that's weird, Baki noticed his hand shaking even when he tried to hold it still. Man, I really need a vacation from this vacation-Baki soon learned to be careful what he wished for, hearing a strange sound in the distance and looking behind him to discover a huge river of mud rushing towards him, carrying him all the way out of the national park in a massive mudslide. </p><p>              "Hm, weird weather today." Yujiro, who was inside one of his summer vacation homes, thought, sipping on a glass of pure rubbing alcohol mixed with jungle juice while a woman sucked his toes. "I wonder what my foolish son Baki is up to." </p><p>The sky, which was darkened with grey clouds though there was still a little sliver of sunlight peeking through, rumbled with the sound of thunder as thick, disgusting mud rained down everywhere, Yujiro following up on his little afternoon drink with a giant cigar. </p><p>              "Probably nothing, the little shit. Too lazy to train enough to bring out his full potential. That's why he'll never defeat me." Yujiro went on between puffs of his cigar. "When I was his age, I trained in conditions ten times as cursed as this." Following another puff of his cigar, Yujiro stretched a little, reclining further in his lawn chair. "Kids these days..."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I don't know if there are any national parks, but I do know that I'm too lazy to go through the trouble of looking that up for a shitpost fic.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. When There's a Mysterious Ballpit on the Loose, Balls Are Only the Beginning</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Baki looked around, his nose wrinkling in disgust as the unbearable stench in the dark, cramped room filled with thousands and thousands of people hunched over tables, computers, and game consoles. What the hell he was doing there and how he even got there in the first place was a blooming mystery in every sense possible, but Baki didn't care, he just wanted to go home. He only had one more day of vacation left, and things had rapidly gone from bacon to neckties in a flash. </p><p>      "Hey, Pickle!" Baki had no idea where his 8 and a half foot tall ancient friend had gone, but he could only assume that there was no way Pickle was getting up to anything good in the middle of a hotel where a Smash tournament and a video game convention were being held at the same time. Combination ass and body odor-everywhere Baki looked, there was someone with an unfortunate case of what could only be called "plumber's crack" and an unholy amount of body odor. Do these people ever shower? "Pickle?! Where are you?" </p><p>It had all started when Baki noticed he was beginning to develop heat stroke. He had gotten into a fight with Sikorsky for the 17th time in a fraction of as many days and just when he was about to land the definitive defeating blow, Gaia showed up out of nowhere and not only stole his victory from him but also stole his bag, which had the only water he had been carrying with him, and Baki, having run out of money days ago, had no way to pay for shelter from the terrible heat wave that had struck yesterday and had been wandering around the city streets hot, sweaty, and dizzy. After being kicked out of every single place he tried to enter, Baki's last and final hope for refuge was a rather noisy and busy hotel. Oh well, whatever-mere minutes before Baki was going to pass out, Pickle noticed the loud noises and shiny colorful lights coming from the hotel and carried Baki there, kicking a hole in a window and throwing Baki inside. </p><p>When Baki woke up, he found a water fountain and after drinking his fill, he looked around, having absolutely zero fucking clue what the entire living breathing hell-blasted fuck he was looking at. Odd techno music was blaring and people in all sorts of unusual clothes were running around, including someone wearing a gimp suit and a fedora and someone else wearing nothing but a pair of rainbow suspenders and a pair of clown shoes. Oh God-Baki was no medical doctor but he knew what venereal disease looked like when he saw it, mainly because of some of the stranger things he had seen during his time in China for that one martial arts tournament everyone made such a big fucking deal about. </p><p>     "Pickle?" Baki shouted, finding no sign of his friend anywhere. "Pickle, I told you about the buddy system, we're supposed to stay together!" Ugh, Pickle doesn't listen-Baki and Pickle had their differences, mainly of the language barrier variety, and sometimes it led to trouble. </p><p>There was nothing to do but look for the giant prehistoric caveman, so Baki did what had to be done, even if some of the people wandering around made his super special spidey sense start tingling with some extra bad juju. The vibes are absolutely atrocious, Baki thought upon seeing a man in a horse head mask and a plastic tarp humping a giant watermelon. People could be eating that shit-well, not that I'd want to be eating it now. What a waste of watermelon. </p><p>Baki shook his head-no time to get distracted. He only had one more day of vacation left after this and he didn't want to be responsible for losing track of an enormous relic of the Jurassic Era killing/eating/molesting anyone or anything. He also didn't want to get distracted while trying to prevent what could possibly become a major disaster before it had time to be breathed into existence, but alas, Baki realized how futile his hopes and dreams were when he wound up in the men's room in the basement and found his own half-brother, Jack Hanma pop out of one of the toilets that had a sign on the stall door saying "out of order." </p><p>       "Baki, what happened to the ogre? I'm gonna kill him!" </p><p>Dammit all-"Jack, what the fuck are you doing here?" Baki didn't even know what the fuck he himself was doing here, but there was no reason to tell Jack that. </p><p>        "Hey, I asked you a question first!" Just as Jack burst out of the toilet to try to lay some lovingly home-made whoop-ass on Baki, Oliva wandered in, wearing sunglasses and a wide-brimmed straw hat sipping on a margarita. </p><p>        "Nothing like some good old-fashioned brotherly bonding." Oliva said to himself as Baki smashed a toilet seat over Jack's head while Jack was holding him up with one hand. "Too bad I never had any siblings. I bet it would have been a blast." </p><p>Just when Baki was confident he could wrench himself free of Jack's grip, Kylo Ren, who was 3 floors up, had accidentally hot-boxed his hotel room, causing every single fire alarm to go off at the same time, causing the whole building to shake like there was an earthquake. </p><p>         "Dammit all, just when I was finally about to get my hands on my tax refund!" Doyle, who was wearing a slinky leopard dress and an expression of pure murderous hatred on his face, shouted, breaking into the bathroom from behind the large flat mirror over the sinks, followed by Kylo Ren barrelling into the room after him, light saber in hand. </p><p>         "Who fucking asked you?!" Jack hollered, dropping Baki and delivering a roundhouse kick straight in Doyle's direction. </p><p>Doyle, who dodged, threw a grenade at Jack, naruto-running out of the bathroom at lighting speed. "Fuck off, it's my money, and I need it now!" </p><p>Oliva, who was still sipping on his margarita like nothing unusual was happening, smiled to himself. Ah, the exuberant, carefree joy of youth. He remembered what it was like to be young, so wild and full of energy. Kids these days...what an entertaining bunch. Oliva sipped the rest of his margarita as calm as a clam in the sea while Baki wrestled out of Jack's grip, running out of the bathroom while Jack and Kylo Ren chased after him, Jack still wearing the remains of the toilet seat Baki smashed over his head around his neck like some kind of particularly fucked up necklace. </p><p>         "Guess that's my cue to leave..." Oliva mused to himself when he heard the sirens of a fire truck. He supposed he would never figure out exactly what happened in the ball-pit in Hall D, but that was just how the cookie crumbled sometimes.</p>
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